Falling
by sinemoras09
Summary: Oneshot. Eden does surveillance. Gen. Eden X Sylar. Takes place after Six Months Ago.


_i._

There's something wrong with him. Eden can't place it. Something with the way he carries himself, she thinks, or maybe the slight inflection of his voice when he greets her. And when they pass each other in the stairwell, she climbing up and he walking down, she can't help but shudder when his arm accidentally brushes against hers. She rushes up to Chandra's, finally working up the nerve to ask him who he is.

"Who?" Chandra asks, and Eden motions over to the kitchen window. Even though they're several stories above the ground, she can see the man standing motionless at the corner of the street, people moving past him like water around a stone. "Oh," Chandra says, and he brightens. "That's a pupil of mine, Gabriel Gray, although he prefers to be called 'Sylar.' Bit of a superhero kick, but I think we can forgive him that. He's actually quite intelligent," Chandra says.

"He scares me," Eden says, and Chandra laughs.

"He's eccentric, but he's really quite harmless," Chandra says. "Perhaps I should introduce you, sometime."

Eden doesn't answer. Instead she frowns and looks out the window. Gabriel Gray—Sylar—is nothing but a dark comma below them, standing at the corner and getting swallowed up by the crowd.

  


_ii._

She rounds the corner, carrying a paper bag full of groceries.

"Eden?"

She starts, looking up. The light catches his face and she gasps in recognition. "Oh my God, Gabriel, hi." Her voice is reflexively strained, poised to throw a command his way should she need to. "I almost didn't recognize you—I didn't know you wear glasses," she says.

"It's no big secret," Sylar says. She can almost see him start to smile. "Do you need help?" he asks. He motions to her groceries.

"Oh no, I'm fine," Eden says. She shifts the groceries against her hip. "Thanks, though."

She quickly turns and starts heading up, but the bottom of the paper bag wrenches open and an orange rolls down the stairs. "Shit!" she says. She struggles to keep everything else from tumbling out.

He's standing at the bottom of the stairwell watching her, the fingers of his left hand making a crooked C. He lowers his arm slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You sure you don't need help?" he asks. She clutches her bag protectively.

"No, I'm fine," she says, and she hurries back up the stairs.

  


_iii._

She's working on her field report when it starts to rain.

It's thundering outside, and the rain comes down in sheets. Eden leans against the couch and curls her legs underneath her, watching the lightning. It's dark out and her face is reflected on the window, orange and pale against the dark glass. Lightning flashes and she sees _him_ staring back at her, the sharp angles of his face illuminated by lightning before disappearing into the dark.

Eden shrieks and jumps back, her notebooks clattering on the floor.

She rushes to the window but no one is outside. Of _course_ no one is, she's on the seventh floor. Unless the man can fly, there was no way he could be by her window.

And then she thinks, _telekinesis_. Her throat tightens at the realization.

Her hand is shaking when she dials Bennet's number.

  


_iv._

It's midnight and she's rushing back. Her meeting with Bennet was brief, but his instructions to her were clear: watch him, but don't interfere.

Now she's at her door, fumbling for her keys. "You shouldn't be out this late," someone says, and Eden whirls around. Sylar is standing behind her.

"What are you doing here?" she asks. She flattens herself against the door.

"I was looking for Suresh, but he isn't home," Sylar says. He's standing uncomfortably close, cornering her with his height. "I thought maybe you'd know where he is."

"I think he's working nights this week," Eden says, and suddenly she's afraid. "His cab isn't there anymore."

Sylar steps closer and she shrinks away.

"I'm not myself," he says. "Maybe you can help me."

And then he dips forward, his face just inches away from hers. She's breathing hard and she can almost feel his lips hovering above hers, his breath soft and warm. And maybe because it's habit, but she finds herself leaning closer to him, their lips almost brushing. "I'll let him know you stopped by," she says, but he doesn't answer, just stares at her instead. His eyes are wild and rimmed with dark circles, predatory and completely magnetic, and Eden can't turn away.

She opens her mouth to speak, but before she can say anything he shoves her against the door, his hips slamming against her groin. She cries out and he grinds into her, his hot mouth pressing against hers. She throws her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, her mouth open and her head thrown back. She's wet and his hardness scrapes against her clit, and she can't stop the soft, sobbing little sounds from escaping her throat.

And then he pulls away. She slumps by the door, shaking from unrealized sex. Fear and shame overwhelm her and she hugs herself tightly, pulling her sweater around her like a shield.

"Bitch," he says, and then he leans forward. "_Whore_."

And then he leaves, his shadow skimming over her as he disappears into the dark.


End file.
